Roach Motel

After a 13 hour bus ride, made longer by a broken down bus and the subsequent vehicle switch, we arrived in Bangkok. We went to Wendy House which we had heard was a really clean and nice guest house in Siam Square. We wanted to stay away from Kao San Road, for tonight at least, and were willing to pay a little more for the nice part of town. Wendy House was really cute...and really full. We asked if she could suggest another guest house and she sent us down the road to Muehpol Mansion (Ha! I haven't come across a bolder misnomer...). By this time it was late and we were exhausted. We went to the front desk and asked if there were rooms available. There were...for 700 baht. Now, this is way more than what we have been paying, in fact it's nearly three times more than what we have been paying. At that point though we didn't care. I was sick (bad chicken) and we were too tired to go anywhere else. We paid and even broke our rule of "check the room first, pay second".

We walked in to find a giant cockroach, in its last spasms of death, in the middle of the floor. The place was a dive. Any other day I would have marched downstairs and demanded a refund. Last night I cried a little and pulled out my portable sheet bag (like a sleeping bag but made of cotton) which I reserve for the more questionable accommodations.

This trip has had some wonderful moments but there have also been some low points...but that's traveling. We are over budget and running out of time. After a lot of discussion we have decided to change the itinerary and skip Vietnam. This breaks my heart because it was one of the main places I wanted to see, but it can't be done. We booked our airplane tickets last week online, only to find out that they will only issue paper tickets. What is this, 1985? Anyway, that means that we have to stay in one place long enough for my Mum to courier us the damn tickets. We decided that instead of quantity we would go for quality and really get to know Thailand. Not perfect but at this point in the game I would be up for a week in a five-star hospital...give me all the antibiotics, blood work and de-worming that modern medicine can muster.

Back in the Vortex

We are back in our new "hometown" of Krabbi. We've used this quaint little place as a jumping off point for our beach trips and have fallen in love with the people, the town and the pace. We have met some really wonderful people and will be sad to leave tomorrow. We are leaving on the 7:00 am bus to Bangkok which will take 12 hours, then we hop on the overnight train to Chang Mai. So we should be there by...oh, I don't know. We'll be there.

We headed out to Ko Phi Phi a few days ago (don't expect specific days or dates, I stopped counting a while back) and the boat ride over was horrendous. I have never really had sea sickness before but I got introduced to it in a big way. The water was really rough so I ended up puking for the whole hour and forty minutes. I must say I was quite discreet though and nobody seemed to notice. Although at that point I wouldn't have cared anyway.

All the sick was worth the view. Ko Phi Phi is easily one of the most beautiful places I have ever seen. I wanted to take a picture of everything I saw...bright blue-green waters, white sands, palm tress and bright blue skies. It looked like a postcard. I can easily see how you could come to Thailand and just never leave (and let me tell you, we met plenty of people who have done just that!)

On Sunday night Brian and I were lying in bed and I felt it shake (insert sex joke here). I said to him, "Did you feel that?" "Feel what?" he asked. I insisted several times that the bed was shaking, and Brian basically told me I was imagining things. Turned out I was feeling an earthquake. The quake, which measured 7.3 on the Richter scale, hit about 650m off the coast of Phuket in the Andaman/Nicobar Islands. It spurred the Thai government to declare an official Tsunami warning which sent people into a panic. The restaurant where we had eaten dinner that night was evacuated about half an hour after we left. Apparently people's cellphones just started ringing like crazy and the Thais took off for the hills...literally. So there was a mass evacuation and guess where we were? In bed. Oblivious. I heard someone going door to door knocking gently "Hello? Hello?" but assumed that it was someone looking for their friend. Trust the Thais to be their typical sweet, quiet, gentle selves during an evacuation. Evacuations don't work if people don't know about them! Anyway, nothing happened and no tsunami showed up. It's a good thing too because Ko Phi Phi still looks like the tsunami hit last week despite an ongoing cleanup effort. There are a lot of questions that need to be asked about where the aid money has all gone and why there is no permanent medical facility on the island...but I'm on holiday. I don't ask the tough questions when I'm on vacation.

Yesterday we spent the day snorkeling (fortunately we met a lovely couple from New Zealand who supplied me with sea sickness pills...thanks guys!) all around Ko Phi Phi, Phi Phi Leh and Bamboo Island. It was awesome. I had never seen so many beautiful fish and coral. It was warm and the water was so clear...I felt like I was a mini- snorkeler in the world's largest aquarium. We spent the day diving off the boat, laying on the beach and swimming to our hearts content. It was awesome. We also rented sea kayaks one day and paddled all around. We had such a good time. It took a lot of will power to get aboard that outbound boat today. A lot of will power and some serious medication.

2 Minutes and Counting...

Speed blogging...the extreme form of communication. There are eleven minutes left on the internet ticker and I have five days worth of catching up to do...starting...now:

Spent the last few days in Railay beach (near Krabbi). We stayed in a cute little bungalow in the jungle...Brian, myself, a few geckos and an unidentified animal in the roof. We ate delicious food (often delivered to us on the beach) and I got a killer foot massage. We played with macaques (those are monkey-like animals for you urbanites). Brian went climbing and I did a lot of reading (Bill Bryson's "A Short History of Nearly Everything" - highly recommend it). I relaxed and I swam in the ocean everyday. We invented a new card game called "Piss Off" which is a lot like Go Fish except it's more complicated and far more therapeutic.

Brian's leg is bruised from the ankle to the knee and is all sorts of technicolours from his stint in the mosque fountain. But in better news he won a big scholarship for law school...well done babe.

Tomorrow we are heading to Ko Phi Phi (where they filmed The Beach) for a few days. The tsunami devastation was evident in Railay but we have heard it is far worse where we are going. Will let you know...

That's it. Two minutes left to publish. Just the bare bones...no links and all that fancy jazz. To my friends and family I miss you...write me some emails.

Brian Earns 72 Virgins...maybe

It's been raining in Kuala Lumpur for the last few days so we're off to Thailand tonight on the overnight train. We had a good time here, although KL is not exactly what I imagined.

Yesterday we went to Petronas Towers (which some people claim are the tallest buildings in the world...personally I don't care about tall buildings but for those of you who do...) and walked around the area. We ate good food, took pictures and tried our best to dodge the raindrops. Which was hard since they were falling in thick, heavy sheets. Then we went to the Central Market which was sort of a disappointment. After spending some time in the Night Market, haggling over a difference of 5 ringgits, the Central Market was tame and a little boring. The stuff was nice but it was all indoors and clean. There were no smells, nobody was yelling and the merchants didn't bargain. How in god's name does that fit the description of an Asian market I ask?

After the market we headed to Masjid Negara, Malaysia's national mosque. The dome of the mosque is adorned with 18 points - representing the 13 states of Malaysia and the five pillars of Islam. It was all really beautiful and peaceful. I, of course, had to be fully covered and I was feeling pretty cool in my full length robes and hijab (headscarf). I felt Muslim...well, sort of. Not long after we arrived at the mosque we had quite an incident. I heard a woman yelling and turned just in time to see her running up to one of the large pools that divided the main floor. As I watched the mother run towards her, a little girl tipped over head first into the pool. The mother started screaming and tried to reach her but the ledge was too far above the water. We ran up and the little girl (who was not even two) was struggling under the water. It all seemed to happen in slow motion. Before I knew it, Brian had dropped his pack and had jumped into the pool. He scooped the girl out of the water and held her up to her mother. She didn't breathe at first but we were all very relieved when she started to cry. I will never forget the look on her face as she came out of the water...her eyes were huge and she looked absolutely terrified. The mother, who I think was in shock, took the baby away and Brian climbed out of the pool. He was drenched head to foot and had cut up the back of his leg on the pool edge. My adrenaline was racing and I just wanted to cry...I don't really know why. I was so proud of Brian and so relieved that the little girl was okay.

The mother and the girl came and found us later and thanked Brian. The mother had calmed down by then and the little girl had been dried off and changed. The mother thanked Brian profusely and the little girl, cueing from her Mum, shook Brian's hand. She was cute but looked thoroughly confused.

It was all just such a strange situation...there I was in Muslim robes, at a mosque in Kuala Lumpur, watching Brian save a drowning baby. If I'm wrong and there really is a God, and if half the world is wrong and Allah is the one true God, then I hope he has a very good memory.

Just as we were leaving the mosque we met two women sitting on the steps. They called us over and we sat and chatted with them for about an hour. They were so kind and friendly, and obviously very passionate about their faith. They talked with us about Islam and we had a long chat about Sharia law...that's not entirely true. They had a long talk about Sharia law and I just listened. This is not because I agreed with them, it was because I wasn't about to get into a religious debate with two nice Muslim women on the front steps of Malaysia's national mosque.

Which brings me to this: Why is it okay to tell people that you believe in God but it's not considered okay to say you don't? On our way to the Malaka train station a few days ago the taxi driver asked us if we were Christian. We told him that we aren't. He asked us why. We gave him the PC answer...about everyone just getting along and how you don't need religion to be a moral person. He then proceeded to tell us that he knows Jesus Christ is the Saviour of the world and that God loves us, ya da ya da ya da. Now why is it generally unacceptable (and usually considered rude) for me to reply with "I know that Jesus Christ is not the saviour of the world and I believe that God is a convenient excuse for a lack of personal accountability"? And why is it okay to be referred to as a "non-believer". I don't call someone who prefers showers a "non-bather". I believe in things...just not the same things as others.

Part of me wants to start telling people what I really think (only after they ask of course, because I certainly don't run around asking strangers if they believe in Santa Claus and then grilling them as to why or why not) but I know how that would be perceived. Crazy athiests...always trying to justify their lack of faith. What I will probably keep doing is smiling and nodding and saying "thank you" when people tell me they are praying for me. Or maybe I'll just return the comment with "and I'm chewing ju-jubes for you" because to me it's all the same.
Sorry about the rant...

In a few hours we are heading up to Thailand on the overnight train and will be in Hat Yai by morning. I can't wait. Malaysia has been fun, but to me Thailand is where it's at.

Land of Spices

I didn't even know that Melaka existed before today, and now here I am, loving every inch of it. This small coastal town (I say small...the population is 650,000) used to be the port to South East Asia back in its heyday. It has been ruled by the British (who hasn't?), the Dutch, the Portugese and the Sultans of Indonesia. The result is a beautiful mix of cultures, tastes and architecture. The quaint and colourful streets are host to Mosques, Chinese temples, Christian churches and everything in between. It's awesome.

Today we took a trishaw ride (think rickshaw with more flowers and "hood" ornaments) with a Portuguese man named Sebastian. Sebastian (whose Chinese name is Lek) was raised by a Chinese family, speaks five languages and took us to all the historical hot spots of Melaka. He was informed, genuine, and so sweet - I wanted to hug him. He really made the day for us and we ended up spending a lot more time with him than we originally anticipated. That's the luxury of not having a schedule I guess - life just kind of grabs you and takes you where it wants.

Today was a real scorcher so we headed for somewhere cool in the late afternoon...and cool is exactly what we found. Geographer's Cafe is the oldest cafe in Melaka and is a multicoloured, open-aired corner cafe with all of the character I could have ever wanted. The beers were cold, the food was divine and the atmosphere was perfect. They played classical Malaysian music and I could have spent all afternoon watching the people go by. In fact, I nearly did.

We are staying at a really neat little backpackers not far from the centre of town. The owners (who, being Muslims, have some intense rules on pork products in the house) are so friendly and the guesthouse is really clean and full of character. Off to Kuala Lumpur tomorrow!

In other news, my new camera is freakin amazing...

Korea? What Korea?

From Singapore...the land of all things delicious. So far our trip is going well, if a little more expensive than we planned. The flight over was good but not mind blowing...which is what I expected from the "airline all the other airlines talk about." The food was good and the women were beautiful but South African Airways is still my gold standard.

I booked a hotel near the airport a few months ago, knowing how tired we would be when we arrived. The hotel ended up being really fancy and it started our trip off right. We slept in a big comfy bed (the online reservation even allowed me to specify "No feathers" much to my relief) and awoke this morning to a beautiful view of the ocean framed by palm trees and tropical flowers. Perfection. We had a big breakfast buffet and then went for a swim in the roof-top pool. We had set aside a few days of relaxing before our real backpacking trip began. It was nice to live in the lap of luxury for a day.

This afternoon we headed into the city and booked into our more reasonable hotel the "New 7th Story Budget" in the city centre. It's run by this really nice Indian family and the mother has a crazy lazy eye. The grandfather is the elevator man (never actually been in an elevator with an elevator man before...too bad he doesn't have one of those little organ grinder monkeys) and he's a little jerky on the stick. Every time he bounces us to our floor he says "Rough landing! Just be glad it wasn't a crash landing!" and then he laughs at his own joke. It's really cute and he's so sweet.

Tonight we are heading out for a crab dinner...a free one I might add! An inflight magazine ad promised free crabs to visitors, although I'm sure most people don't actually ask about it. We asked and after showing the proper ID and our boarding passes and a lengthy discussion we "passed" the test and became the proud owners of two chili crab vouchers. Looking forward to that.

Will probably head to Malaysia in a few days...will try and keep you posted. I must warn you though, I can feel myself slipping into that heady traveling existence where time and borders cease to exist. On second thought, that might just be the Carlsberg.

Goodbye to the Land of the Morning Calm

We did it! We finished our life in Korea and we got paid for it! Yesterday was our last day at work and although it was sad at times (my preschool kids and I were all in tears) it felt good to walk out those doors for the last time.

This week has been a long one. It's hard to say good-bye to people, especially when you know you may never see them again, or if you do it won't be for a long time. I have met some incredible people here and made some life long friends...it sucked saying good-bye. The hardest had to be Susie. I spent a lot of time with Susie (doing private lessons which I can now discuss openly without fear of being found out and deported) and I grew to love her. It's strange that I would find my kindred spirit in Korea and that she would be nine years old. Susie is the sweetest, funniest and coolest kid I know. I will miss her like crazy. Her mother is great too. They were so kind to us and so generous.

I will also miss Jon, one of the other foreign teachers at our school. Sometimes you meet someone and you feel like you've known them much longer than you actually have. That's Jon. He feels like my brother and I've only known him 6 months. I can't wait to see him again, after he gets out of Korea of course, and hang out. Hang in there buddy.

So, cheers Korea. Cheers to cheap taxis, cheap food, getting bumped into everywhere you go, DVD bangs, bathouses, the orange restaurant, Mr. Lee and his convenience store, kimchi and the hundreds of kids I met here. I never thought I would say this, but I will miss you..."Have a good time."

Caroline's First and Last CBC Slag

I hate the CBC. Okay, so that's a bit much, but I'm ticked off at them. The executive producer (the one who bought my piece) went on vacation Wednesday and told me to send the story to another producer. He got it but emailed me today and admitted that he hadn't known it was coming (due to "crossed wires" on their end) and can't fit it into Friday's SLC. Oh. He said I did a great job and that he had sent it to a show in Vancouver and to some other local shows. Then he emailed again today and said that a ferry had crashed in Vancouver and the mayor had just quit. That doesn't bode well for my happy-clappy little Canada day story.

Bitter disappointment.

In other news, while I'm bashing media organizations, Time sucks too.

Canada Day in Korea

An apology to the tons of people who have emailed me in the past two weeks and haven't gotten a reply. I've been swamped. We went to Seoul last weekend and shipped all of our stuff home. We bought some really cool Chinese furniture from this eclectic little antique store in Itaewon and threw in all of our belongings in the crate.

The Canada Day party was awesome and for 6 hours it felt like I was at home. They were selling Molson Canadians and Outback steakhouse was providing the meals....yumm. The place was full of young people wearing "Save a tree, eat a beaver" t-shirts and funny red and white hats. They played all the typical Canadian music (BNL, Kim Mitchell, Alanis Morisette, Blue Rodeo, Spirit of the West...) and people danced and played Frisbee in the mud. It was perfect.

My story for CBC is on the party and I just finished it this morning. I sent it off and now all I can do is hope for the best. It's weird to be out here in the middle of nowhere and have no real guidance or help...but it feels good too. Keep your fingers crossed that it goes to air...

This is our last weekend in Korea and I can hardly wait to get out of here. Next Saturday I will be leaving the land of kimchi behind and flying to Singapore. Unless a monsoon keeps me on the ground...In which case, I might just swim to Singapore.

To Shelagh With Love

Holy crap. I just got an email from Anne Pennman, Executive Producer at "Sounds like Canada" and they want to air my story! I pitched it to them a few days ago (thanks Justin!) and didn't really think they would go for it because, hey, it's Sounds Like Canada with Shelagh Rogers...and I'm just little old me. But they did and now I am so excited I could puke.

Glass Houses

In other screwed up news...

Have a Little Faith in Faith

I have been thinking a lot lately about the difference between passive and active religion. I feel like over the last year I have undergone so many transformations (most of them positive) and one of them is my approach to religion. After my long ascent from religion to atheism I was a little militaristic. If not vocally, at least inside my head. I didn't hate religion but I hated its symptoms...close mindedness, judgment, moral rigidity and a lack of faith in humankind and what we could create.

Living in Korea has allowed me a different perspective. Religion is passive here. Nobody talks about it and people don't ask and don't care. You could be Buddhist, Christian or Satanic and nobody would really say much. I love that. Passive religion is far less insulting and infuriating, and I'm sure passive atheism is preferable too.

Active religion involves telling everyone what you think of religion. And what they should think of religion. I've been told I'm going to hell (not a threat - I don't believe in it) and that God loves me (not a good tactic - Santa loves me too). People fight wars and blow themselves up to prove how faithful they are and to disprove the other God. The same is true for atheism. Militant atheism is no better than its anti-philosophy, crazy religiosity.

Having said that, I must say that when someone comes up to you and assumes you are Christian and think the same way they do, there is a natural desire that bubbles up. You want to tell them you are atheist and that you are happy that way. (People seem to have a hard time hearing those two words placed side by side). And, when the Christian right is attacking things I hold dear (especially in America), such as critical thought, science, evolution, gay rights and the right to have an abortion, I want to fight back.

Everyone should just chill out. If you don't believe in gay marriage, don't be gay and if you are, don't get married. If you think belief in the afterlife is absurd, make sure you don't believe in it! If you think Christianity is full of holes, contradictions and bold-faced lies...be happy and let everyone else be happy too. And if you think atheists are going to Hell, just be satisfied that you won't meet them there.

Grand Master at the Tea ceremony

Caroline and Brian at Golgulsa Temple

Me doing the "Tiger Crawl" in my monk clothes! Yup, I sure look like a tiger.

The meditation platform at our temple

Beaten by a Buddhist

I have a new found (and hard won) appreciation for Buddhist monks. It ain't all bowing and chanting, that's for sure.

We arrived at Golgulsa Temple just in time for the dinner ceremony (Balwoo gongyang). The ceremony was very detailed and involved so many steps, I was sure I was going to screw up and offend one of the monks I was eating with. Sitting cross-legged on the floor, each person is given a set of four bowls, all of which fit into one another like a set of Russian dolls. After unfolding a linen cloth and placing it front of you, you have to put the bowls in a square formation. The largest bowl is for seaweed soup and sits at the bottom right hand corner of the square. The next in size is for rice, then water, then kimchi. The monks came around and filled our water bowls with water (we indicated we had enough by twisting the bowl slightly in our hand) and then the next bowl with rice. We had to bring the bowl to our foreheads and bow and then we received two scoops of rice. After we served ourselves some kimchi and the monks said some prayers, we bowed and then began to eat in silence. We finished quickly and then continued with the ceremony of cleansing our bowls. We poured water from the water bowl into each bowl and then, with the one piece of kimchi we had kept (every other morsel of food had to be finished) we washed our bowls and rinsed them with the water. It was all very involved and needed to be done in specific steps. It was really interesting and at the end, all of the bowls were clean and I had eaten my first ceremonial meal.

After dinner we went up the hill to the temple platform for evening chants. We did 108 prostrations to the Buddha and tried to keep up with the monks. After chanting we started Sunmudo training. Sunmudo is a zen martial art which involves fighting, yoga-like postures and breathing meditation. It has been practiced at Golgulsa temple for at least 1,000 years and was used by monks fighting the Japanese invasion in the 16th century. I was put into positions I couldn't even have conceived of, let alone orchestrated, and stretched in every direction. The evening was beautiful and it was really amazing to be up on the side of the mountain practicing meditation with Buddhist Grand Masters. We were surprised that several of the monks in training were foreigners. One was from Norway and had been living at the Temple for just over a year and the other was from France. Because Brian and I can both understand French, some of the meditation and Sunmudo postures were taught to us by the French trainee. There we were, learning an ancient Korean art, in French. It was very cool.

Bedtime was at 9:30 and I had a really hard time getting to sleep...literally. Sleeping on the floor is not my thing. I've tried it and I recognize that it may be good for your back, but it hurts. I tossed and turned for most of the night but eventually fell asleep. Just in time to be woken up at 4:00 am for morning chants. We made our way up the steep mountain side for the 4:30 chants and were still half asleep when we started bowing. Bowing itself isn't hard, but doing it 50 times in a row at 4:30 in the morning with no food in your stomach is tiring. After chants we headed out to the platform, which overlooks the valley and temple grounds, for more meditation. It was really relaxing to be sitting there in the lotus position and to hear the birds singing in the trees. It was cool and the it smelled so fresh and clean. I was really enjoying it...until I got hit three times with a big bamboo stick.

The Sunmudo trainer came up behind me and hit me three times on the shoulder with a big piece of slitted bamboo. It scared me because I wasn't expecting it (why would I?) and it hurt. I can tell you, that for the rest of the meditation session I wasn't very relaxed...I just kept imagining hitting the monk with his damn bamboo. Maybe that was the point...to learn to accept life's little injustices and not get too hung up on them. It didn't work. I was annoyed. After that, we did some walking meditation (if by meditation you mean imagining all sorts of creative punishments involving a piece of bamboo) and headed down the hill for some more Sunmudo training. This morning's training was ridiculously hard. We were supposed to "be like a tiger" and jump our way up the long and rocky temple stairs. Then were were supposed to walk, on all fours, back down the stairs...head first. It was nuts.

We had breakfast this morning after training (man, were we hungry) and then after a brief rest, we headed to a temple building to have tea (Dahdoh) with the Grand Master. The GM was really cute and actually reminded me of my friend John McCrank. It was funny to be sitting with my friend's Korean monk double! We sat with him for more than an hour and he served us green tea (prepared ceremoniously of course) and we had the opportunity to ask him questions. It was very interesting and a perfect ending to a great experience.

I am tired and incredibly sore but satisfied. I've been on this "pushing yourself to do difficult things" kick lately and I'm enjoying it. Doing a temple stay was a really amazing chance to step into another life, if only for a day.

Nirvana (Smells Like Kimchi)

We are leaving tomorrow for a temple stay. We are going to be Buddhist monks for twenty four hours. While living with the monks we'll learn some zen martial arts, live in a cave, wake up to the gongs at 4:00 am and eat alms. All of it except the shaved head. It's going to be one of two things...really cool or really crappy.

Will keep you posted when I get back to this consumerism-driven world we call home.

Mmmm...tastes bitter.

Work hates us. More than the normal "You're white, so automatically not welcome...and while we're at it we are also totally jealous of the fact that you get to travel, even though if we were given the opportunity we wouldn't take it anyway" kind of way. The Korean teachers at work were so pissed at us for missing our flight. We got completely ignored on Monday, despite our futile attempts at Asian-style groveling and humble-pie-eating. I've been eating humble pie for the past eleven months and truth be told, I never really liked the taste of it. The mere thought of anymore makes me gag.

I'm all for respecting cultural differences but somethings are just ridiculous. The idea that our missing the flight was directed at any one person as an individual is ridiculous. What is more ridiculous is the idea that we should be shunned and shut out for some unknown period of time until the unnamed powers that be decide we are forgiven. It's one week since our "incident" and we are still being ignored. I mean point blank "Hello's" being greeted with stony faced "Humphs" and followed with a pivot and walk away. Jeez.

Retaliation also seems to be a favoured technique here. We've been publicly embarrassed and reprimanded, forced to carry a heavier teaching load than normal and basically mistreated. The worst part is that we have three weeks left and they have their hands around the purse strings...which contains our bonus. Our whole reason for being.

I'll swallow my pride...and wash it down with some more humble pie.

Brian and I at the highest, and lowest, point in our journey.

Me...at sunrise

Brian, near the summit

Me...wanting to die.

Me...before I wanted to die.

Lowest Lows on High

There is an old Japanese proverb that says: "He who climbs Mt. Fuji once is a wise man, he who climbs twice is a fool." Personally, I think climbing it once makes you a fool, or at the very least a glutton for punishment.

Since June is outside of the official climbing season, the Japanese government makes it next to impossible to get out the mountain. Our group (consisting of Brian and I and our friends Dennis and Andrea) were hell-bent on getting there so we took a bus to the first station, Kawaguchiko and then hired a taxi from there to the base of the mountain. When we first approached the taxi-driver he said "No." No? What do you mean no? What he meant was that the gates to the fifth station were closed (of course they were - foiled by the Japanese system once again. They're smart.) "But..." said the taxi driver. But what? "But the other station is open. It is on the other side of the mountain." At this point we were stranded in Kawaguchiko and determined to see the summit of Fuji. We piled in and rode for an hour or so up to the base of the mountain. He dropped us off (at about 10:00) in absolute darkness and pointed up..."That way." We paid him $120 for the ride and he left us. We turned on our headlamps in an attempt to cut through the pitch black and started up the mountain in good spirits.

The first hour or two was great. The trail (although it kept disappearing) was decent and we were excited by the big adventure we were on. Everything we had read estimated the climbing time to be about 4.5 - 5 hours and we were making good time. We could feel how high we were getting when our ears started to pop and we made it above the clouds. The white peak was off in the distance and although it was chilly, we were well-dressed. After about hour 4 things took a turn for the worse. The climb was steep and the air was getting thinner. We started to get a little light-headed and dizzy, and took a break so we could adjust to the altitude. We were getting tired but had passed a few stations so we knew we were on the right track. It wasn't long after that we started to get sick. The altitude sickness was making us nauseous and we were puking our way up the mountain. Too determined to stop but too sick to go on, we stopped and tried to rest in the dark. But every time we stopped moving the cold would set in and we would keep pushing, partly warm up and partly because we didn't know what else to do.

By the 8th station we were way above the clouds, over 3000 metres up. The sun was starting to rise and it was beautiful. It would have been more beautiful if we weren't so sick. We were close to the peak when the sun rose over the clouds and Brian and I had to stop and rest. We hunkered down against the station and tried to get some warmth from the sun. My toes and fingers had long ago gone from painful to numb and I tried to warm them up under Brian's arms. At that point, I seriously thought that we might not make it off the mountain. We were physically exhausted and had altitude sickness. Everything we had eaten had been "ejected" and we were shivering. Mentally, we weren't all there. Things weren't making sense and I felt stoned. We managed to fall asleep in the sun for about 20 minutes before melting snow began dripping on my arm and woke me up. I have to say that waking up to a sun over the clouds is am amazing experience.

We knew that the only way off the mountain was up the mountain so we pushed on. The last part of the climb was really steep and covered in ice and snow. We would take three steps and stop. The climb had been cut into switchbacks so we would try and so one switchback and then rest. It took us hours. It also took everything I had mentally, physically and emotionally to keep going. It was a vulnerable but empowering feeling to know that the only person who could get me home safe was me. Nobody was going to help us. At this point Dennis and Andrea had gone on ahead of us while we slept. It was just Brian and I, the sun and that goddamned mountain.

Hours later, we reached the summit of Mount Fuji (3,776 metres). The mountain is a volcano, so at the top there is a giant crater. We walked around the crater and found Dennis and Andrea who still hadn't found the trail down. There were cold, exhausted and as mentally unstable as we were. The whole experience felt like a dream. The silence, the snow, the sun, the wind and the full feeling in our heads contrasted with the emptiness of our lungs. We decided to head back down the mountain and started to stumble our way down the trail.

Going down is supposed to be easier. It wasn't. The snow made for treacherous conditions going down and at one point I fell and cut up my arm. After the snow we reached the descent trail and it looked like the fires of Mordor. Red volcanic rock and sharp cliffs. It was horrible...nothing like what we had imagined. It was steep, dry, barren and rocky. We were all in survival mode and powered by sheer instinct at this point. Every station seemed further away then the next and as the hours dragged on we started to doubt (again) if we would ever get off the mountain. It took us more than six hours to get to the fifth station (where we could catch a bus) and 10 hours to get to the top. All together we had been on the mountain for close to twenty hours. Without sleep and without food. We were wrecked. I couldn't walk, I couldn't talk and I couldn't think.

We eventually made it and managed to get on a bus bound for Tokyo. I slept on the bus, on the subway and as soon as I lay down in our bed. If I had done the climb alone I would have doubted any of it really happened...the altitude sickness gave it all such a surreal dream-like quality.

The next morning I awoke to find myself and Brian badly sunburned. His face was actually blistering and we had to bandage up my right hand. It was the worst sunburn I have ever had and climbing Mount Fuji was the hardest thing I have ever done. But I did it.

"Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn't do than by the ones you did do. " - Mark Twain

More Than Just Good Sushi

We're back from the edge of the world. After being stuck in Tokyo for 4 extra days, we're back in Daegu. What a ride. By Friday we had run out of underwear (the old rumour that you can get extra wear by flipping them inside-out is true), clean clothes, and patience. We showed up for our flight on Tuesday and were running behind. We were there nearly an hour before our flight left but we were too late. I've never heard of anywhere closing the gates an hour prior to takeoff. We couldn't believe it when they told us that the next available flight was on Friday. We tried to get on standby and of course, couldn't. By the time we got in line for our Friday flight they were offering voluntary bumps because they had overbooked the flight. So we took it. After being in Tokyo for that long, what did an extra day matter? The airline put us up in a fancy hotel and fed us all you can eat seafood and breakfast buffets. And gave us a free flight voucher. Not a bad ending to a long trip.

So, lets get to the good stuff. Tokyo is by far, the coolest place I have ever been. As the world's largest city (34 million people - can you believe that!? That's 12 million more than Mexico City) I expected it to be crowded. It wasn't. It was beautiful, modern, exciting, easy to navigate and unbelievably clean. I fell head over heels in love with the city. The food was delicious and we saw so many cool things. Here are some of them:

1. Asakusa: The area where we stayed, first in a guesthouse and later in a capsule motel. Capsule motels are what they sound like, little pod-like things arranged in rows and columns. They are cheap and you check-in by buying a ticket for the night. Very futuristic but cozy.

Asakusa is also home to Kappabashi Street, 800 metres of kitchenware and fake plastic food. It was awesome. I bought more ceramics (gulp) and some neat binto boxes. I could have stayed there all day, but Brian dragged me away while I was still flinging money at the merchants.

Senso-ji, Tokyo's oldest temple, was just around the corner from our pod. It was really beautiful and much bigger than its Korean counterparts.

2. Harajuku: The fashion district is famous for it's strange trends and "out-there" costumes. It was really amazing to see all the girls dressed up in goth gear (including blood and trailing bandages) standing next to other girls saturated in pink lace, ribbons and parasols.

3. Shibuya: Home to the world's busiest intersection, where every three minutes the lights turn green and the crosswalks are flooded by pedestrians. Also home to the Lost in Translation Starbucks, where you can watch the madness from the second floor. We also hit the world's biggest Tower Records where I managed to scoop up some English magazines. A small but missed luxury in my life.

4. Tsukiji Fish Market: Wow. This was incredible. You have to get there early, but it was well worth it. This fish market is the world's biggest (noticing a tend here?) and was more chaotic, exciting and visual than anything I've ever seen. Everywhere I turned there was a picture, and someone pushing me over so that I couldn't take it. It contained every kind of fish, eel, tortoise, crustacean and squid you can imagine. And many more that you can't.

We also visited Ginza (the haute couture capital), Shinjuku, the Tokyo Metropolitan Art Museum and Tokyo Tower (a copy of the Eiffel Tower). The people were unbelievably friendly, the subway was incredible, and not once did I feel swarmed or overcrowded. It also wasn't nearly as expensive as I had been told. Most of the prices were comparable to Canadian or American prices, which is a shock after living in Korea, but they weren't prohibitive.

I want to move to Tokyo and I would highly recommend that if you get the chance, you should visit. It's like the cool comic-strip cities of the future only it's cleaner. And it's real.

Stranded

I'm in the Tokyo airport. We missed our flight back to Korea. Mount Fuji nearly killed us and I'm as sick as a dog. We can't get out of here until Friday, although we are trying to make standby, and we are nearly out of cash. At least there are lots of cute robot puppies to hang out with. Will write when we get back...if we get back.

Off to Nippon

Off to Tokyo on Saturday morning. I can't wait to eat Japanese food, walk on clean streets, take pictures of dogs wearing haute couture and climb Mount Fuji. Climb Fuji? "What a minute! Isn't that a big mountain?" you ask. Yup and I'm a little nervous. It's not a hard climb (says Brian), "Just a steep incline most of the way up..." but it will take us four or five hours. And we're doing it in the dark and it will be cold on top. And it's technically illegal since it's off-season...and did I mention it's 3,776 metres tall?

Despite how it sounds, I am actually quite excited to do this climb, if a little cautious. It's my first real peak and Fuji sure isn't a bad place to start!

So, if I don't blog again for the nest few weeks it's because I'm in traction in a Japanese hospital paying 5,000,000 yen a day and being force-fed miso soup.

Spring League

Spring here has been beautiful so far, and today was no exception. The sun was shining and it was a balmy 27 degrees. We headed to the Daegu World Cup soccer stadium to watch a soccer game. The stadium is really beautiful and is nestled in the valley between two mountains. The open air seating was practically empty and for $7.00 we had the pick of any seat in the house. At home you go to a game (soccer, hockey, whatever) and you have a choice of hot dogs, chips, beer, soda and other assorted junk food. Here you can choose between rice cakes and ramen noodles. (Be warned that if you choose the noodles, you may just have to wait in a long line for the hot water.) And beer of course...some things cross all cultural borders!

The game was good, though I spent most if it chatting with my friend Chelsea, and our team won 4-3. Every time the home team scored, blue streamers and sparkles would shoot out from somewhere above our heads! It was cool. Like most things in Korea, the normal event of a soccer game was made foreign by the strange foods, the different smells, the constant staring and the language barrier. We didn't know what we were chanting most of the time but we were chanting alongside the rest of the fans, and it was fun.

Today was a strange day. I woke up early and went to my friend's house for a couple of hours. My friend is nine and very cute. She's a mini Korean version of me at that age and she amazes me every day. She's smart, creative and funny. I love her so much and I never leave her house feeling sad...until today.

I've been in a slump the past couple of days...hormones I figure. I decided to walk home from my friend's house and listen to Brian's iPod. It was a long walk home but I loved every minute of it. I started off listening to really mellow music which didn't help me feel much better but did give me the opportunity to wallow. Wallowing is good...but only for so long. About 45 minutes into my walk I switched over to my music from the 60's...the Doors, the Four Tops, the Beach Boys. Before you know it I was singing my way through downtown Daegu. I loved being outside and took the time to smell the roses...literally. This actually turned out to be a big mistake since the roses in Daegu are all growing along side the stinky, garbage-filled river. The smell of rose only lasts a few milliseconds before it's overcome by the smell of stench. That'll teach me.

In the evening we went to a DVD bang (bang is Korean for "room") which I think might be one of the coolest things I've ever seen. You go in and pick your video, much like a videostore at home. You hand it to the guy at the counter and leads you through a maze of dark hallways and into your own little mini-theatre. In each room there is a huge movie screen (about 7 feet by 5 feet), a big comfy-couch and a table for drinks and food. You can bring in anything you want - a pizza, beer, popcorn...you name it. It's great. It's private, cheap and comfortable. Like going to the movies only better. They're technically illegal here (can't imagine that the movie theatres like the competition) but they are on every corner.

We watched Motorcycle Diaries and loved it. It's based on the journals of Ernesto Guevara, before he was "Che Guevara". It was filmed in Argentina, Chile and Peru and the scenery was unbelievable. It was really interesting to see how many of Guevara's revolutionary ideas first developed. It's amazing to me how chance encounters and discussions with strangers can affect a life as profoundly as it did Guevara's. Before his travels across South America he was an Argentinean medical student. After his travels his destiny was much greater and he eventually became a pop culture icon. In hindsight, maybe he should have stayed home.

I need to write a manifesto...I'm just not sure what I want to say. Sometimes I get so filled up with frustration that I want to scream but I can never really verbalize what frustrates me so much. This generation...the black hole of revolution. The complacency that surrounds me, despite plenty of things to get worked up about. Human rights abuses, the erosion of the separation of church and state, not to mention our planet which needs to be under death watch. The Bolsheviks had their revolution, the hippies had theirs...we're just too damn lazy. Forgetting everything else, the environment should be enough to unite the whole world into a frenzy. It should cross cultures, languages and age barriers. It should (gasp) leave the fringes behind and become a mainstream cause. But it hasn't...not yet anyway. It's wilting in the melanomic sun and people are going about their everyday lives.

What makes a "cause" well up and pour out into a revolution? Soldiers are dying in Iraq at the same rate (if not worse) than they were in Vietnam and nobody is marching on Washington. War medals are not being thrown into chanting crowds. People in Africa are dying by the millions...the famine that swept Ethiopia in the 1980's hasn't disappeared, just shifted course. And there is no Band Aid. Women are still treated as second rate citizens in many parts of the world (some would argue all parts of the world) and no one is burning their bra. What happened to the revolution?

What happened to not living by default?

Now, call me crazy, but is it possible that this Newsweek story might actually be true? After all the fallout from Abu-Ghraib I am quite sure the US government would go to great lengths to silence any similar type of story. Even as far as paying off/threatening its biggest national news magazine?

Al-Jazeera claims it has separate sources that support Newsweek's claims. Something tells me that we will never know the truth. We can just flush that hope right down the toilet.

Love in the Rain

Tonight it was raining and Brian met my taxi at the market. I stepped out of the cab and under his awaiting umbrella. The air smelled like rain and strawberries and it was just about the most romantic thing I had ever seen.

A hodgepodge...

I cannot believe this Newsweek thing. "Ooops, we made a mistake, sorry about the 15 people killed in riots over our story." And our journalism profs thought we we were bad fact-checkers. Ha!

Brian and I each got a Tamagochi...and we're addicted. I thought I was immune to the expired Japanese craze. Apparently I am not.

Sunday was Teacher's Day and on Friday I got bombarded with presents...good ones. (No repeat of the Christmas seaweed set.) Body shop gift sets, candles and even a Tiffany and Company jewelry bag. Brian got a giant bottle of Johhny Walker Black label, which is sort of an odd gift for your teacher, but still very considerate. It was a good day.

We booked our tickets out of here!! Wahooo! We fly out on July 9th into Singapore. We are making our way from Singapore up into Malaysia and then on to Thailand, Vietnam, Cambodia, Laos and then into China and Mongolia. We are so excited! We have time, money and no real itinerary...could I ask for anything more?

We leave for Japan in "18 sleeps" (as Brian says) and that will definitely make the last few months fly by. We have our accommodations booked and have the climb planned. Now all I need to do is save the money for the medi-vac to get me off the mountain. I'm a little worried about the climb but Brian says it will be fine...hard but doable. It will be worth it when I get to the top of Mount Fuji and watch the sunrise over the crater.

Went bowling last week and I loved every minute of it. Now, some people may not know this about me but I love ten-pin bowling. Enough that I have looked into joining a league when we move to Calgary. I have priced out balls and shoes on line and I am determined to be the best bowler I can be. Brian thinks this is ridiculous and insists that bowling is for "white trash". Guess I won't ask him to be my bowling partner. I will admit that every team I looked into joining was named after either a beer or a Nascar driver. What I need is a bowling team/political discussion group/secular humanism and skeptic association all wrapped into one. Maybe I can start one...any joiners?

Only 36 work days left...not that I'm counting.

269 Ermine. With the emphasis on MINE.

My parents are moving out of my childhood home this weekend and I feel really upset by it. Here I am, in Korea, living my grown-up life with my new husband and all I can think about is my house in Fort McMurray, Alberta. We moved into that house in 1981. I was a toddler and only one of my brothers had been born. We grew up in that house, were teenagers in that house and visited it once we had left for University. My parents are retiring to Okotoks and I am really excited for them but I can't help but feel like a part of my childhood is gone forever. All that stuff that people say about "home is where the heart is" is only partially true. Home is also where the house is.

A Leap of Faith

Getting a haircut in another language is always an experience. After getting a Korean friend to write down what I wanted in hangul I headed off to the local beauty salon. The place was crawling with people. Mothers, fathers and little boys getting perms. I waited for about half an hour until I was instructed to "come 'ere" by the shampoo boy, who couldn't have been more than sixteen. His broken English was cute though and he gave me one heck of a head massage. They also put this creepy green Freddy Krueger mask on your face when you are getting your hair washed so your makeup isn't ruined. I kept wanting to sing "Music of the Night" but I managed to refrain.

After I was seated in the chair, the Korean scissor cowboy sauntered up behind me, armed with three hip-holsters full of scissors. He said a quick "Hello" and proceeded to cut my hair in a frenzied blur. When he was done he flicked up the back of my hair with a grunt of accomplishment, threw his hands in the air like a flamenco dancer and pranced off. It was fantastic.

And my hair looks pretty good too.

The Saddest Zoo in the World

Today started out great and went downhill. I woke up this morning and Brian had bought me the coolest Swatch watch for our 8-week anniversary! It's really nice and was a great surprise. How good is Brian?!

We had to be at Ding Ding Dang early today because we were taking the kids on an outing to Dalseong Park, Deagu's oldest park. We arrived at school and got the hundreds of kids into the school buses and on our way. The weather has been really beautiful here lately and when we pulled up to the park (after 6 rounds of "The Wheels on the Bus") I was happy to see that all the flowers were in bloom. It was really beautiful.

How was I to know that nestled among the beautiful flowers and greening grass was the saddest site I have seen in a long time? In the park there is a zoo. That is apparently the main reason we were taking the kids to this park and so I had to be a part of parading the little kids past the animals. Animals in small, dirty cages. A lone elephant, eating what appeared to be dust. Three mangy seals in an empty pool. Lions and tigers with no space to roam, eat or find shade. A chimpanzee lying in the fetal position in the dirt. It was horrible. Even the kids, who tend to show a typically Korean lack of feeling for animals, were disturbed by what they saw. One of my students, Peter, remarked that all the animals were old and sick. Or suicidal I silently added.

Seeing the zoo made me so sad and I eventually gave in to tears standing across from the lions. Having seen them in the wild and the majesty with which they carry themselves, I couldn't handle staring and taking pictures of the sad, scrawny, tired cats.

It made me wonder a lot about humanity. On most days I have a lot of faith in people and in our capacity for compassion and kindness. But there are days, and today was one of them, where I can't believe some of the things we have done. How anyone could stand across from a primate, look into it's eyes that look so much like ours, and then laugh at their miserable condition escapes me. As a scientist, I know that humans are animals much like chimps, elephants or lions. Today I realized that we are sometimes more animal than human.

Where the Chips Fall

What the hell is coming to the world? A monkey named after an online Casino? That is far worse than naming your child "Chip" or "Bubba" - this affects an entire species...forever! What were these people thinking? Okay, so maybe it's funny for the first five minutes but then when you stop to consider what has actually been done and what idiots we are going to look like a thousand years from now, it's shameful. Obviously I am not in tune with the rest of the world. Gays want to get married? Sure, why not? The Pope? Sad but inevitable. Sports scandals? Don't care. But a monkey named after an online gaming site? Now that pisses me off.

It pisses off the monkeys too...they just don't know it yet. When they evolve enough to talk (and they will) there are going to be some very confused and angry talking monkeys out there.

Go Philly! What a great idea.

The war is not over yet, but another battle has been won. I have to say, that this issue is one that really perplexes me. Maintaining the definition of "traditional marriage"? As far as I know, traditional marriage doesn't have room for adultery or divorce either. Should we make those illegal too? Maybe the Tories would try to do exactly that if given a "mandate" (hip new word for freedom to destroy democracy and the separation of church and state), maybe they can try to reinstate the traditional role of women, or the traditional role of minorities too.

I wrote a letter to Paul Martin to thank him for all the hard work he has done in defense of the right to marry. This is my letter, followed by the response:

Dear Rt. Honourable Paul Martin,
I am a Canadian citizen currently living and working in South Korea. I have been following the
issue of gay marriage in Canada very closely and know that your government will table legislation this week, legalizing gay marriage. I want you to know how proud I am of you, the Liberal party and of Canada. Our willingness to extend rights, protection and respect to all members of society is what makes us great. In an increasingly conservative political climate, it takes guts to stand up and do what you know is right.
You are making our country greater and opening doors for people who have been knocking at them for a long time.
Thank you,
Sincerely,
Caroline E. Knox
Daegu, South Korea

Dear Ms. Knox:
On behalf of the Right Honourable
Paul Martin, I would like to acknowledge receipt of your recent e-mail regarding
same-sex marriage.
Please be assured that your comments have been carefully reviewed. Given his responsibilities for this matter, I have taken the liberty of forwarding your e-mail to the Honourable Irwin Cotler, Minister of Justice and Attorney General of Canada, who, I am certain, will also appreciate being made aware of your views and will wish to give them every consideration.
Thank you for writing to the Prime Minister.
L.A. Lavell
Executive
Correspondence Officer
Agent de correspondence
de la haute direction

Pretty cool, huh?

Anyway, it frustrates me to no end that the religious right and conservatives (who evidently have nothing better to do than run around trying to limit the rights of others) have engaged in a national letter-writing campaign and that whole churches will spend their Sunday school hours instructing five-year olds to write to the Dark Lord in Ottawa and stop the gays from taking over the world. The other side needs to say something too. That's the problem with being liberal, you tend not to get involved in other people's business. You tend to be more flexible and less stubborn. You tend to be less radical and therefore less vocal. Ultimately, you are less heard.

Incidentally, I interviewed Pat O'Brien (one of the loudest "defendants" of traditional marriage) several times about different topics and I found him to be intolerant and prejudiced, not to mention a little ignorant. He was opposed to sexual-orientation becoming protected under Canada's hate crime laws. That's right, he wanted to make sure that gay-bashing didn't result in harsher penalties. Because, otherwise, what would he and his friends do on a Saturday night?
He also spewed the same nonsense that homosexuality is a choice and that discussing it will make it a viable option for today's teens. Good Lord.

A shameless plug: Listen to my radio piece on gay rights in one Ontario school.

Straight Life

A friend of ours recently returned from a trip home to America. It's pretty common, so we hear, to go home and encounter some reverse culture shock. I know that for me it will be getting used to the consumerism, the prices and the portion sizes at restaurants. It will be hard to remember to say "Excuse me" and not to push my way through. Brian asked our friend what he noticed the most and he didn't even hesitate, "The rules", he said.

This surprised me, but the more I thought about it, the more sense it made. There are no rules here. You can eat, drink, spit and ride your bike wherever you want. You can smoke anywhere. You can choose to buckle up, or not. You can ride your moped on the street or on the sidewalk and whether you wear a helmet or not is entirely up to you. Most traffic rules are merely suggestions and there is really no police presence to enforce the few rules that do exist. Even tax laws, citizen registration and medical benefits appear to be flexible.

Sounds chaotic doesn't it? Like fires, mayhem and crime would run rampant? Nope. It's safe and overall, incredibly well-behaved. People don't vandalize. They don't really use illicit drugs. They do have a higher traffic accident rate but I'm not sure what the direct cause of that is. People don't really steal or murder (I mean, it happens but at a much lower rate than in Western countries) and kids ride their bikes all over the place and I haven't seen one killed yet.

There is the flip side of course. They are rigid and don't adapt well to change. They don't question authority. They are restricted by far weightier consequences than the law. They are deathly afraid of shaming the family. They cannot think or process anything as an individual and always consider the group first. There are no privacy laws and people share everything. Your employer knows all your banking and medical information and dictates what hours you will work. There is no room for you only for us. You, as a person, are insignificant.

When I first came here I liked having rules and I thought the Canadian way was the right way. Now, I'm not so sure. I have seen both sides of it and there is something liberating about knowing that you can do what you want. A sense of personal accountability that has been sanitized at home. The government takes care of us and I used to love it. Now I think it's all a little weird. Having said that, things over here are a little crazy too.

Like most things in life (not to make this sound like a plug for mediocrity) the best way probably lies somewhere in the middle.

A Life

Sometimes you take a picture that you are really happy with. This is one of my recent pictures...I'm venturing into portraits and so far I'm loving it. I love how you can see every line and every year he has lived, etched on his face.

Follow the Yellow Brick Road

The yellow dust from China is officially here...and it sucks. Apparently, the fine sand blows from 750 miles away, from the Gobi desert, onto the Korean peninsula and it has now settled in Daegu. I have been hearing that the "sand is coming" for the past couple of weeks but I didn't really know what to expect. One of my students said that it turns everything yellow. That's not true. What is true is that the air constantly feels like your driving down a country road behind a truck spewing dust in your direction...without the risk of a broken windshield.

I've always hated driving on dusty farm roads and now I live on one...for the next couple of weeks anyway. Apparently the Chinese have tried to cut down on the sand by planting grasses and plants in the desert but it hasn't exactly worked. It's a pretty big health concern here and in China because the sand is laden with heavy metals and causes eye and breathing problems. So, one asthma attack later, I might have to resort to the "asian face mask". Why not? I've already invested in a darth-vader sun visor.

On the bright side, Brian and I booked our tickets to Tokyo this week for June. We're climbing Mount Fuji! Me, Brian and the 20 pounds of sand we will have inhaled by then.

Terri Schiavo

What is it about the Schiavo case that everybody is so interested in? What qualified it to be a major news story...for the networks to devote hours to her story? I've been thinking about this a lot lately and have come to the conclusion that it's not actually a major news story...despite what you may see on the news.

Being connected to a feeding tube isn't news. Neither is dying (despite what I may have been told in journalism school). It's not even really an assisted-suicide issue because what happened to Schiavo wasn't assisted suicide. Had she had a living will, dictating that her feeding tube be removed, there would have been no legal reason to keep her alive. A recent Canadian case, where a terminally-ill man wanted to kill himself, didn't get near the coverage that Schiavo did...and it was more of a story. The story didn't lie in her parents begging the government to save their daughter's life...just ask any parent of a death-row inmate how much the TV cameras care. What's interesting is that the story wasn't even a case of a popular uprising, where Americans en masse, demanded that Terri live. This story was self-servingly orchestrated by the religious right and then amplified by the media. What I can't believe is how many news organizations bought into it. This pack mentality is the second worst thing to happen to journalism (with media consolidation being the first) and nobody even seems to have noticed.

There were stories in the Schiavo case, don't get me wrong. A closer examination of the Bush brothers' capital punishment history butted up against their ridiculous comments about "erring on the side of life" might have been a good angle. But that's just me.

In other news, Alternet does it again.

Featured

Today I was a blog of the day! How cool is that? I've always had a hard time writing for other people, and so I decided to turn to the anonymous beauty of blogging. (Okay, so it's not always anonymous.) I've always written and I've always hated being read. It stems from a couple of (apparently deeply-rooted) childhood memories:

1. In the fifth grade I sold poems for money. It made me feel like a whore...a ten-year-old nerdy whore, but a whore nonetheless.

2. A few years later I decided to bare my soul and allow myself to be vulnerable. I read my newest short story to my mother while she was brushing her hair. It was about horses. She said she didn't "get it".

3. A sneaky high school teacher entered one of my poems into a competition without my consent. I won the contest and was forced to attend a writers workshop with some famous author. He proceeded to analyze my writing to the point where I didn't even recognize it anymore. Pacifist tendencies...futility of war...feminist leanings. WTF?

Anyway, my husband (okay, I'll admit it - that feels weird) loves what I write, when I'm bold enough to share, and he always talks about the day when I will publish. I used to silently swear that would never happen and that the first order of business to be carried out upon my death would be the cremation of every word I'd ever set to paper or screen. I have recently begun to soften. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad.

People, who I don't know, read my blog. And they liked it. I don't feel like my soul has been left to rot in the open air and I haven't been ridiculed. It just felt nice...like somewhere out there, somebody gets it. And that, after all, is what it's all about.

Frank Rich does it again. Sometimes it makes so much sense and I just can't understand what people don't get.

Shivers

Sunday's earthquake in Japan sent shockwaves through the Korean peninsula and I didn't feel a thing. The quake measured just over a 4.0 here in Daegu and all of my students were talking about their swaying apartment buildings and things falling off the wall. Me? Nothing. What a rip off. The worst part is that this is the second earth quake I have missed in my life. There was a pretty big one when I was in California as a kid. Apparently my 12 year old sleeping mind assumed it was still on the rides at Disneyland.

I'm up and I can't sleep. Better yet, I can't sleep, so I am up.

Ding, Ding, Hell

My God - how could I forget to mention work? It sucks. In fact, it licks goat scrote...that's pretty bad. We have been fighting with the bosses for week and they just keep piling the work on. Meetings, reports about nothing, presentations about even less...it's never ending and it's all busy work. Koreans are procedure oriented not goal oriented so they always make us do this shit to keep us doing something. I could seriously sit there all day and do nothing and I would be better off than if I came in for 5 hours, worked my tail off and went home. Anyway, another co-worker has also been kicking up a fuss and recently received this warning which I thought summed up the Korean attitude pretty well:

"There is an old Chinese proverb that says that if the
minions rise up, beheading one of them will make the rest fall into line."

Minions? That would be us. Rising up? Asking for fair treatment. Beheading? Your guess is as good as mine.

Moving to Cow Town

After a week of agonizing and flip-flopping, we finally decided where we will me moving in September. Our first choice was Victoria but after a lot of research we realized that it was way out of our price range. It's a nice idea, but the only thing we could afford was a fishing wharf. Now, I actually pitched the idea to Brian of living on said fishing wharf but was promptly refused. Now the book flap with my picture on it won't have the cool little blurb about living on a floating rat trap while I struggled to make two sentences meet. Ah well...

So, we are moving to Calgary. Which at first really disappointed me since I don't want to be in Alberta but I have come around to the idea somewhat. It's closer to our families and will hopefully allow us to still travel and enjoy the outdoors. It's not Hippyville BC (in fact, it's the complete opposite) but maybe I can open my own little commune. With a Starbucks of course, and lots of MEC gear. Sheesh.

Anyway, can't complain because Brian got into law school (at every school he applied to - yay Brian!) and we are going to buy a house and have a life and all that jazz. I might even get a job. Watch out.

Bull Negotiations?

This past weekend we went to the International Bullfighting Festival in Cheungdo. It was pretty cool. I was a little apprehensive at first because I didn't want to see an animal gore another animal, but it was far more peaceful than that. Being Korean bulls, they were basically just stubborn pacifists. It was great day out in the countryside and once again I ended up on the news. White happy face...like bees to honey.

Proof!

We are still waiting to get our professional pictures back...but here is a teaser wedding shot for you!


Brian, Caroline and Kahu Silva

World Wide Weird

Am I the only one who thinks the official North Korean webpage is a strange combination of creepy and humorous? I know Kim Jong Il is a nutcase and has killed people, divided families and snuffed out democracy, but he has a weird magnetism about him. He's like a naive, socially retarded, megalomaniac.

What's in a Name?

I didn't change my name after I got married. I had never really thought about it to be honest. I didn't see any good reason for it, and Brian said he didn't mind either way, so I just kept it. I didn't do it to make a point, or because I am not fully committed to my husband. I am not a radical feminist (although, I don't think feminism is a dirty word, like some). I am not even opposed to the idea of changing your name, I just didn't think it was right for me.

I have been surprised by the reaction to this choice. Koreans, of course, think nothing of it. Women here never change their names. Some of my friends have been supportive, others haven't seemed to feel one way or another and some have been surprised. Surprised bordering on scornful. I don't think either set of parents are overly happy about it. Seeing the impact of my decision has forced me to re-evaluate my choice.

I am certainly not alone in struggling with this decision. Women in this century have made so many advances in their struggle for equality, but it's not over yet. Did you know that in 1972 it was illegal to get a driver's license or vote under your maiden name, in America. 1972!! That's nuts!

I have always been a Knox and the idea of suddenly changing my identity because of my marital status, bugged me. It just felt weird. I have finished two degrees and published under my name. I have made friends and contacts under my name. It is who I am. Brian agreed. He said that the idea of his name suddenly changing from one day to the next was strange and that if he doesn't have to do it, why should I? Good question.

I have to admit that I find being addressed as Mrs. Brian West, rather insulting. I know it's traditional and that people aren't intentionally being disrespectful, but really, think about it! I am a thinking, breathing individual who suddenly disappears because I get married. I always feel torn about these kinds of moral semantics. Part of me thinks "Sheesh, it's just a tradition. Why get so worked up about it?" The other part of me knows that if people don't try to change the little things, the big things (like pay inequality, under-funding of women's healthcare and international torture) don't stand a chance. The little things make up the foundation for sexist attitudes and assumptions. It makes certain attitudes acceptable, and these attitudes ultimately lead to inequality. I don't want to make "a mountain out of a molehill" but I do want my daughter to know that she can be anything or anybody that she wants. I want her to think of marriage as empowering, not an abandonment of self.

Let me reiterate that I do not think changing your name is the wrong thing to do. My mother did it, and the majority of women still do it. People have lots of reasons for adopting the tradition - the desire to share a family name, because they prefer their husbands to their own, but mostly, because it's what you do. I guess that is what bothers me. If you think about it, consider the options, and then decide to do it, that's great. It's the automatic acceptance of a tradition rooted in sexism, ownership and paternal descent, without rational consideration that continues to irk me.

Who knows? Maybe one day I will change my mind, and my name along with it. Until then, I am just happy being me...and married.

Paradise...and Back

Hawaii was better than I thought it would be. I knew it would be beautiful, hot and full of native English speakers (a real bonus at this point in our lives) but I also thought it would be a bit too touristy for my taste. It wasn't. It was more beautiful than I had imagined and less busy and congested. There were plenty of empty beaches to walk along and not too much traffic. I fell in love.

We stayed at a great little place on the Windward side of the island. The cottages were right on a private beach...every morning I would walk along the beach, the aqua water on one side, palm trees on the other. Some mornings, I wouldn't see a single other person. It was like I was on my own private island...just me and my family. We decided to get married right where we were staying...on the beach, under a palm tree. Does it get any better than that?

There were a million things I wanted to do on the island, and sadly, I only managed to fit in a couple of them. I guess that means I will have to go back! I did manage to do a couple of cool things though:

1. I shopped my ass off at a really great mall. Didn't have a lot of money, but was loving brand names I could recognize. The food court was the best part of all...Brian and both walked right past the Korean BBQ joint. No way, no how.
2. I went swimming with turtles! We went to Turtle Beach and got really close to them. Later in the week, I went snorkeling and swam right into one. Coulda kissed it.
3. I ate fantastic food, on the beach.
4. I read to my hearts content.
5. I spent a lot of time with my family. It's never enough but I enjoyed every minute of it.
6. We went and watched a pro-surf competition and the world famous Banzai pipeline. That was impressive.
7. I swam in the ocean and did some boogie-boarding!
8. Did I mention the food?
9. We went to the International Marketplace in Waikiki...very cool.
10. I watched a sunset at Sunset Beach and swam in Waiamea Bay.
11. Ohhh...and I got married. :-)

Wife!

So, I am officially married! Can you believe it? It still doesn't feel real. In a way I expected to feel different, although I know this makes no sense, but I don't. I just feel like regular old me...not that that's a bad thing.

The wedding was perfect. I know that is a big claim to make but in my mind, it was everything I could have ever dreamed of. I went to bed on the 23rd and was feeling anxious and a little ill. Not nervous so much as emotionally drained. Buying a dress and getting ready for a wedding can be very tiring! As I lay in bed I kept trying to wrap my head around the idea that I was getting married and I really couldn't. I fell asleep to the sound of rain against the windows. I woke up to the sound of rain. Uh oh.

It rained all morning. The makeup artist, Leslie Gallagher, showed up at 8:00 and started working on Bobbi, Patt and my Mum. She was really great. I couldn't stop moving and pacing all morning...my stomach kept doing flip flops. The boys and girls had been separated, so the men were all getting ready upstairs and the women were downstairs. At one point I looked out my window and Brian was out snorkeling in the ocean! I was pacing and he was snorkeling. That's the difference between men and women!

At about 10:30, all of the "wedding people" started to arrive. The musicians (ukelele and guitar), the photographer, my wedding planner, Tammy, and the officiant, Kahu Silva. I started to get excited and nervous and happy all at the same time. It was a strange mix of emotions - my family was all there and excited, the sun was starting to shine and I was in my dress.

Brian and I decided early on that we wanted a traditional Hawaiian style wedding. Kahu Silva is a Hawaiian spiritual guide and master chanter and does a really neat wedding that combines Hawaiian and western traditions. About 20 minutes before the wedding started, the sun came out and lit up our beach. Kahu Silva, Brian and Craig started down by the ocean and Kahu Silva chanted them in from the beach and onto the grass. This symbolized the Hawaiian belief that all life began in the ocean. After they were positioned, the musicians began to play the Hawaiian wedding song which was my cue. My maid of honour, Bobbi, walked out first and my Dad and I followed. It was beautiful. The music was perfect, the sun was shining, our families were all there in a big welcoming circle and Brian was standing there waiting for me. He looked amazing.

My Dad gave me away to Brian and we stood and faced Kahu Silva. The ceremony was really beautiful but difficult to describe. A lot of it was in Hawaiian and then translated in English. Hearing the Hawaiian was really neat...it flows so softly off the tongue. Kahu Silva talked about "Aloha", the spirit of love, and how to incorporate it into our lives. We did a traditional ring exchange ("With this ring, I thee wed...) as well as a Hawaiian lei exchange, where the lei's represent unity and eternity. Finally we did a "hone hone", a Hawaiian version of the wedding kiss. We touched nose and inhaled slightly, which represented an exchange of our souls, or spirits. Then we kissed the good old fashioned way and were married!

After hours of getting our pictures taken, the limousine showed up and took us to the reception, which was onboard the Star of Honolulu. The ship was anchored at Waikiki Harbour and was absolutely beautiful. I couldn't believe how lucky I was! We boarded the ship and made our way to the third deck. Our table was on the sunset side of the boat and as we left the harbour, the food (wine, lobster, filet mignon...) started to arrive. It was so good! We watched the sun set over Diamond Head, danced to great music and had a fantastic time.

After the boat returned to shore, the limousine took us to our hotel and Brian and I bid farewell to our families. We walked into the hotel (still wearing gown and tux) and I was greeted with a single rose by the bellboy. The hotel was the nicest place I had ever been! We checked in and were promptly upgraded two scales to an oceanfront room. A perfect ending to a perfect day.

And the rest, as they say, is history. ;-)

It's Now or Never

Well, this is it. We are leaving for Hawaii this morning to get married! I haven't slept well in days (normal before a big trip) and I feel tired and a little stressed out...but excited. Thank you so much to all of the family and friends who have sent emails, cards or who have called. We really appreciate it and we will contact you when we get back home...to Korea. Oh yeah, we live in Korea. Well, life is never perfect, but right now it's pretty damn close.

A Hen

Some of my friends threw me a Hen Party last weekend, here in Korea...what a blast! I thought, when we first decided to get married while living overseas, that I would miss out on all the pre-wedding festivities. But so far I have had the whole package deal...including the fake veil (thanks Kate!). And it's good to know that no matter how old I get, where I live or how married I am, I can still swing from the rooftops!


Me in front of Rock & Roll in downtown Daegu

Swingers?

No matter where you are...swing from the rafters!

Reflection in Blue

The bride-to-be having a moment in the bathroom at the bar.

Countdown

This is going to be one crazy week. Yesterday was Valentine's Day, today is my birthday and in four days I leave to get married in Hawaii! I have tons of packing and organizing left to do, not to mention work and extra lessons.

The actual wedding is in 9 days and I still have to find a dress, a venue, an officiant, a photographer and flowers. What we do have is a reception, invitations, guests, airplane tickets, a honeymoon suite (at the Pink Palace no less!) a bride, and a groom. We're all set.

Broken Musings

I bumped into a lawyer downtown today who spoke really good English. He stopped me on the street and starting talking to me about foreign policy. Since that never happens in Korea, I listened. First of all he thanked my country for supporting America's attempts to bring North Korea to the negotiating table. "Why, you're welcome." Then he launched into a diatribe on human rights and how much Bush is doing to help out the cause. "Excuse me?" He eventually went on to talk about how much Bush has done for women's rights, I nearly choked, "Oh, you must mean the women he liberated from the Taliban that he helped put into power. Or are you referring to his progressive ideas on abortion and a woman's right to choose?" It turns out that he was invited to America by the Clinton administration in 1993 to work as an environmental lawyer. He still remembers snippets from Bush's inauguration speech and considers America and Canada partners in "ridding the world of human rights abuses." He wants America to "de-throne" Kim Jong Il and is very happy that Canada is so supportive of US foreign policy. "Supportive? We support foreign aid and the US's attempts to hold talks and if necessary, UN sanctioned military tactics, but we do not support a profit-driven attack on already suffering countries, the removal of personal rights and freedoms within it's own borders and their disregard for privacy, fairness and the separation of church and state."

All of the things between quotation marks were thought, not said. What was said was "Yes. I agree." "Oh, really" and "Hmmm." I didn't want to argue with him because he seemed so excited to be speaking English and because I am a guest in his country. I allowed him to think that all of Canada agrees with every move the Bush administration thinks.

This made me think. Was I being polite? Congenial? In my typically Canadian response, had I crossed the line from "nice" to plain old "pussy"? What's the best thing to do in those types of situations and as a country, does Canada pride itself too much on being liked and not enough on being honest?

Bulk Madness

I had the funniest experience tonight at Costco...so typically Korean. I had been dyeing for bagels (we don't get a lot of Western food here) for weeks and we finally went to Costco to get some. I was also going to splurge on some cream cheese, which I haven't had in 6 months. I put the 10 gallons of cream cheese in the cart and headed for the bakery section. To my dismay there was only one bag of bagels left. I picked them up and a sales associate came up to me right away.

"Two fo' one" she said.

I looked at the sign and sure enough it was two bags for 5,400 won. I pointed to the empty table - "No more bagels" I said and pointed to the one bag in my arms.

"Two fo' one" she said.

Okay, something wasn't crossing the language barrier here. I gestured and pointed and used what little Korean I know to propose that I buy the one bag of bagels for half the price.

"No, no. Two fo' one." said the nice lady.

After more debate I finally decided that I was willing to pay full price for the bagels and buy one bag for 5,400 won. That's how bad I wanted these bagels. I was starting to get annoyed.

"Two fo' one" she said, looking at me like I was an idiot. Then she grabbed my bagels and ran away with them! She cradled them like a freakin football and took them into the back! I couldn't believe it! That lady had my bagels.

Why is this typically Korean you might ask. Is it Korean to steal your food? Nope. But it is very Korean to stick to rules long after they stopped making sense. Somebody said those bagels were to be sold for 2-for-1 and that's just the way it must be. Who was she to argue? From a business perspective it's just plain ludicrous. I ended up without the bagels and of course, put back the life time supply of cream cheese that I was about to purchase. Everybody loses.

But decorum and procedure are maintained, and that after all, is the point.

Still Waters

I have discovered the beauty that is the Korean bathhouse. I wish more than anything that I had pictures of the place because it's almost too difficult to describe. But heck, I'll give it a shot.

The bathhouse is a central part of Korean culture. They are all over the country and range from small facilities to large and more inclusive ones like the one that I go to. It's an interesting concept and I have to admit that it took me so me time to work up the courage but I am really glad that I went, because now I am hooked!

There is a big desk or reception area when you enter the bathhouse, where you take off your shoes and put them in a locker. (The actual bathing rooms are divided into men's and women's.) Then you are given a locker key attached to a wrist bad. You walk into the large locker area and sure enough, there are a lot of naked people. And a lot of lockers. There is also a food stand where people are lining up (as much as Koreans ever line up) to buy drinks and meat on a stick. Brian thinks the whole naked and eating thing is disgusting...I think it is oddly liberating.

Anyway, after you have gotten undressed (which, as a white chick with an Asian tattoo and a pierced belly button, isn't the most comfortable experience) and you have finished smiling and bowing to all of the women unabashedly staring at you, you go through a set of double doors into the bathing area.

When you first walk in you are greeted by rows of stand-up and sit-down showers. Koreans usually shower sitting down on little plastic chairs. Even in their homes they shower with a giant plastic bucket, the shower head and a tiny little stool. Everybody washes their hair and cleans their bodies before entering any of the pools. The bathhouse that I go to is really big, so there are probably about 80 different showers...nothing private though. Each shower is about a foot apart so you are surrounded by naked people, scrubbing each and every part of their body.

After you've cleaned yourself you can go into the pools. In my bathhouse there are 5 different pools, each with water at a different temperature. One pool (each pool is a different size, the biggest being about 5 feet deep and the size of a small swimming pool, and the smallest is 4 feet deep and roughly the size of a hot tub) is 45 degrees Celsius, another is 30, another is 25 and another is ice cold. One is set at boiling as far as I can tell. The idea is to go from pool to pool and shock your skin to increase blood flow and "revitalize" your body.

The room is quite big and there are probably about 100-150 people in the pools at a time. There are loads of little kids running around since whole families will come for the day. You can bring your drinks into the pools and relax for as long as you want. It costs $4.00 to get in and you can stay all day if you want. There are also several dry saunas located around the bathing area, again all at different temperatures.

One of the saunas is made entirely of quartz and is really beautiful. There are steam jets in the ceiling and it's really warm and relaxing. Another sauna is made of clay and has a TV playing the most recent Korean soap opera. All the women hang out in there and sleep on little Korean pillows made of wood. (That's right - wooden pillows.) The third sauna is your more typical cedar variety but it has some quartz and some nice mood lighting. It also has a cold ice pool in the middle so you can dip your face in it if you get too hot. And you will.

So that's basically it. It reminded me of the pictures of Roman bathhouses I have seen in textbooks and they were probably pretty similar. It's a really nice idea actually and once you get over the idea of being naked with a bunch of strangers it's really relaxing. My skin has never felt so soft and pampered! There is something a little humbling about being naked in public - it makes you feel vulnerable but connected to the people around you.

Strange but rewarding...just like Korea.

Age is Just a Number

I have already addressed the differences and quirks of the Korean "age" system but it turns out that it's a little more complicated than I thought. They are one year old when they are born. The day of their birth is recognized as their "birthday" but their age doesn't ever change on that day. It changes with the start of the New Year. Traditionally Korea has followed the Lunar calendar, so the New Year starts sometimes in February. But with the westernization of the country, some families have moved over to the Julian calendar so they now age by one year on the first of January...but not all of them. Some of them change their age in February when it becomes the year of the Rooster. So, if you were born on December 30th, you would add a year to your age on the first of January, which would mean that by Western standards you are two days old and by Korean standards you are two years old. Sounds simple enough right?

My kids at school are all suddenly a year older and I can't keep track of how old they are "for real" and they keep asking me how old I am and I don't even know anymore. My Korean vocabulary is expanding but I still keep coming back to the same old word, "mua-li-yo" - I don't know.

Apples and Oranges

What can I say? Japan was fantastic and we loved every minute of our trip. I always feel so torn here - it isn't really fair to compare Korea to its other Asian counterparts but at the same time it's difficult not to. Koreans compare themselves with China and Japan all the time. They'll ask you, suspiciously, "How was China?" It doesn't take a genius to figure out that the appropriate response is "Okay. But the food was greasy and Korea is much nicer." Unfortunately for Koreans, nothing could be further from the truth. China is great and the food is fantastic. Japan is cleaner, more efficient and the food is delicious. Oh, and the people don't push you or spit at your heels when you walk past. And did I mention how much nicer it is? How the buildings have some sort of aesthetic appeal and the streets don't smell like garbage?

"How was Japan?"
"It was okay but Korea is nicer."

Pixels

I was initially going to blog about every day in Japan but I have decided to concentrate on my photographs instead. There are only so many hours in a day. Since pictures speak a thousand words and I can't possibly write that much in a day, I'll let the pictures tell the story. It's all about delegating the work.